Playground
by Emii
Summary: Lord Voldemort is still in power, and the students of Hogwarts are trying to enjoy the summer holidays regardless. The Death Eaters have an agenda, and it involves Hermione. FINISHED.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione looked up briefly from her homework as a fresh burst of rain hammered against the glass of her bedroom window. As night had fallen, the patchy rain had slowly worsened into torrents until it was distracting her from her texts. She slammed her Defence Against the Dark Arts book shut in annoyance and glanced at the clock, noticing with a shock that it was pushing two o'clock in the morning.

Hermione sighed - it was three days into the summer holidays and still she hadn't finished her homework for the sixth year, and so she couldn't start her leisure reading. She turned and stared wistfully at the pile of books on Myths in Magic and Hidden Histories that she had smuggled out of the library using an Undetectable charm. It wasn't really stealing... she would take them back, and besides - it was all in the name of education.

Suddenly there was a loud crack from somewhere nearby and the light bulb above her blew with a small pop. Hermione jumped at the unexpected noises, and got up from her desk to look out of the window. Reaching for her red dressing gown from the back of her chair so she could pull back the curtains and look outside, she realised before she slipped her arm into the sleeve that she hadn't actually got undressed yet. In fact, she still had her shoes and socks on.

"I must be going mad. Mad at sixteen. Honestly." She muttered to herself as lightning flashed through the rain outside, making her curtains glow pink for a split second.

_That's it_, she thought. _The crack was nothing but thunder, and lightning must have hit the house and affected the electricity_.

Hermione smiled at the Mr Weasley's "eclecticity". Harry had told her about it one night in the common room. It wasn't nice to laugh at the ignorance of some wizards, but honestly – they live amongst Muggles, so you'd think they'd pick up some things...

She sat back down at her desk and started to shuffle her scrolls and texts into neat piles, when a little voice began to nag at the back of her mind.

_Doesn't thunder come after the lightning?_

As if in answer, a deafening rumble rolled in the darkness and she stood back up. There had definitely been no lightning before the crack she had heard, so what had it been?

Hermione threw the curtains open and peered outside. It was impossible to see through the sheets of water flowing down the glass, let alone the pouring rain outside. Another flash lit up the garden, and she watched a pale smudge that could have been Crookshanks streak across the flowerbed and under the shed. Another roll of thunder cracked seconds later - the storm was getting closer.

"I'd better try and sleep," she told herself, and stepped back from the window. Something moved a couple of feet away and she hopped to one side with a small scream, knocking her carefully rolled scrolls off her desk.

Slowly it dawned on her. Lifting her hand, the shadowy figure beside her did the same in the little light there was.

She was standing next to her mirror. She relaxed and cleared her mind. It was funny what a bit of darkness and bad weather could do to you.

"Did you shout, dear?" Her mother's voice drifted up the stairs.

"Don't worry, Mum - I scared myself, that's all."

Hermione listened to the footsteps going back towards the living room, feeling silly. She remembered the scrolls, stepped backwards and glanced under her desk for the ones that got away.

Lightning struck again, and during the disorienting brightness that shot through the window, a dark figure stepped forwards out of the shadows. A leather-gloved hand clamped painfully over her mouth before she could scream.

"You should have screamed louder when you had the chance, Mudblood." Lucius murmured in her ear through the black mask. He reached onto her shelf with his free hand and took down her smallest music box. His voice filtered into her mind.

_Take the box, Hermione._

Before she knew what she was doing, Hermione had acted under his curse and gripped one of the corners. Lucius held on to the other side, and clasped her firmly when the familiar jolt of the Portkey caught them both under the ribs. Hermione let out a desperate scream through his hand, but this was only muffled further by a well-timed crash of thunder, and nobody heard them leave.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and prayed, as she found herself tottering unwillingly in the darkness. Lucius' curse was stronger than she had expected - this was nothing like the weak Imperius that Moody had used on them to start their training. That was nothing compared to this relentless, skilled control... The cool, leathered fingers squeezed the back of her neck slightly, and she missed a breath – there was a horrible feeling welling inside her, crudely suggesting that practise made perfect. Sturgis Podmore... Crouch... God knows how many others...

Unnerved, she realised that while she was thinking her feet had begun to move naturally, unlike the earlier jerking movements as she tried to fight off the curse. It was too late to try and go back.

_If only I'd finished my homework_, she thought wildly. _If only I had finished my Defence Against the Dark Arts studies..._

She was interrupted by a familiar voice.

_Open your eyes, Hermione._

Temples throbbing, Hermione opened her eyes and stared straight ahead.

_No...it couldn't be..._

The boarded up building that had been so close and yet so far from her home. She and Ron had come to this place so many times during the week he had stayed with her...

--

"'_Mione, what is this place?"_

"_I don't know – that's what we're here to find out. It's been empty for years... I heard it was a factory before it was used for research." She kicked uselessly at some of the chipboard in a low window. "You know, people get paid to have tests for new drugs run on them."_

_Ron looked worried. "You Muggles run tests on each other? Why? Either it works or it doesn't..."_

"_No, Ron. Pharmaceuticals aren't like magic – if you get it wrong, people can die."_

"_Sounds like magic to me..." He mumbled, helping break through the last board and into the storeroom._

_Giggling like children, they raced each other down paper-strewn corridors. Clearing rooms of crumbling wood and glass, they hunted for abandoned bottles of chemicals and tablets and Hermione stirred and mixed and tested on an outdated kit whilst Ron got in the way._

"_This place is amazing! We have to bring Harry here..." He unscrewed the airtight lid of a jar of red crystals, looking delighted at the 'pop' as the seal broke. The crystals turned black as they came into contact with the air, and let out a pungent smell of ammonia._

_They moved rooms, into a slightly more well-lit lecture room with stone seating, and a skull with a wobbly line spray painted on the wall by whichever yobs had been there before them. It didn't matter - nobody could touch them, because nobody cared about the old factory. It had been safe, and they didn't tell a soul._

--

She found herself being forced to turn a corner. She was striding ahead of Lucius again, unconsciously waiting for the signal to stop. Nearby, a door had fallen from its rusty hinges, and lay like a broken drawbridge to a child's toy fort. The room beyond was the old storeroom where they originally began their experiments. A glass bottle lay discarded on the floor; still a few drops of fizzy drink lying in the bottom, cloudy through age.

Two doors down was the room where Ron had tried to kiss her and she had fended him off angrily. He hadn't spoken to her for a full hour, ears blushing furiously. They never did bring Harry with them.

_I wonder if the workbenches are still in there_, she thought. _I wonder if our names are still carved into the one in the corner._

A small pressure was eased from her mind and relief flooded through her as she found herself slowing to a halt. Cautiously, she tested her fingers and toes for her own reactions.

"You remember this place, don't you, Mudblood?"

Hermione pursed her lips as the tears welled in her eyes, and refused to give an answer. Lucius took hold of his mental lock once more and pushed her muscles to move again.

_Forwards, Hermione._

She was bound to the floor, emotion shutting off all responses. Trying harder, and pushing her with his hand in annoyance, Lucius got her to drag an almost unresponsive foot forwards before her body gave up, and she fell over.

Why had she been brought here again? She had all but forgotten about the rooms around her - it was part of her past. Sometimes revisiting the past is a bad idea...

_Sometimes we don't want to go back - I don't want to see any more..._

Lucius lost his temper, and dragged her bodily up the corridor before flinging open one of the only doors that still clung to its frame. He threw her into the dark room by one arm and slammed the thick door shut in satisfaction.

In the thin shaft of light that spilt through a gap above a window-board, Hermione knelt. The unmistakeable click of a lock flicking into place echoed at an abnormal volume, but she ignored it, her sight penetrating the darkness and picking out the mark on the wall.

It was two doors down. The seating had been destroyed, most likely by magic, and only remained as piles of rubble and a layer of stone dust. The workbenches were gone – most likely burned, judging by the black pile of something along the back wall.

It was all gone.

Shoulders drooping, Hermione's senses came apart at the seams and she screamed until she was sure no one had heard. Then she cried until she fell asleep on the cement floor, unaware of the figure listening outside the door.


	3. Chapter 3

"We will break her, my Lord. We can snap her very mind – her one defence. With that gone, she will have no choice but to come to our side."

"How do you know this, Malfoy? Why do you tell me of this, when I see more than you do?"

"I can sense it in her, my Lord. The girl is strong-willed when she can turn to books and education, but there is nothing for her here. Before, she has always had the support of the Potter boy, or that idiotic redhead... but not now. She is alone within our walls, and won't last long."

"And you accept the plan?"

"My choice is your choice, Master - an excellent plan in itself. But may I ask why you chose this method, my Lord?"

Lord Voldemort leant back in his tall chair and exhaled loudly.

"You have much to learn, Malfoy, about the ways of Muggles. I pity your ignorance, but shall tell you as your loyalty is of great value to me. Knowledge will keep you loyal, I believe."

Lucius knelt still, gazing upwards into his Master's snakelike face, awaiting explanation. Voldemort paused momentarily, gauging the possible responses of his most loyal, and yet dangerously open Death Eater.

"In the wizarding world," he began. "All we fear is death or mental destruction through magic, as physical mutilation and harm can be easily rectified. Muggles and Muggle-borns work on an entirely different level, Malfoy. They can fix little things - cuts, broken bones, most illness, but some physical abuse leaves much deeper marks."

Voldemort paused again, feeling Lucius' comprehension, and was reassured by the satisfaction that seemed to follow. He continued.

"...Marks that will never go away, imprinted on the inside of the soul and the mind. They fear this injury all their lives, and some would rather die than live with the memory. Others go mad."

Lucius' eyes were glazed, an expression he rarely showed in public. Voldemort broke off the undetected link that allowed him to assess the man's reactions, and licked his lips carefully.

"Trust your Master, Malfoy - she will not last long."

Voldemort appeared to look straight through Malfoy, through the wall behind him and penetrate the room holding little Hermione. A small smile crept to his lips as if he had just seen something very pleasant, and returned his gaze to the man before him.

"Give her a night to dwell on her mistakes. It might make it easier for us. Then, tomorrow, we begin. I trust you are appreciating your privileges for returning us to the old Headquarters?"

Lucius nodded as he rose, bowed low and backed out of the room. He would thoroughly enjoy Hermione's come-uppance, after all the trouble she had caused him. She would pay for siding with that Potter brat. She would regret ever learning about the wizarding world. Most of all, she would pay for striking his son and breaking Draco's heart...

The stupid boy should have known he would never have allowed such a pairing himself.

Either way, Hermione was going to learn the greatest lesson of all. She was going to wish she were a child again.


	4. Chapter 4

The lock clicked open, and Hermione's eyes snapped upwards towards the doorway. Sitting up, she kept her head bowed protectively, gravel and dust stuck to the side of her face. She shook her head to try and clear the echoes of her screaming from the night before, but she couldn't help thinking it was the effect of a spell Draco's father had cast on her.

Preparing herself for whatever was on the other side of the door, her first instinct was the reach for her wand. Obviously it was missing, and she drove her nails into her hip, which was covered only by her jumper and skirt.

_Gentleman indeed - he didn't even let me bring a coat. That bastard._

Mildly startled by her own foul language, she refocused and realised that even though she had heard the door being unlocked, there had been silence in the building for a good few minutes since. Maybe it was an accident... or maybe she was hearing things, maybe she was going mad. Her head swam with anger, and she go to her feet, aiming for the door._No, Hermione_, she told herself firmly. _Be strong. You are a Gryffindor – you're brave and clever, and..._

The door swung open with a metallic shudder and she felt her face drain and go clammy. A stream of cloaked figures with identical dark hoods and masks glided into the room... Dementors?

Worse. Death Eaters.

As the encircled her, the quiet, heavy atmosphere forced her back on her knees. Her heart pounding in her ears, terrified visions of her last minutes clashed in her mind. Was this it? Was she going to die now? Were the Order going to find her, a crumpled witch with vacant eyes like Neville's parents, and leave her all alone in St. Mungo's?

_No! No, no, no... _

In a panic, she began to recite lists of defensive spells, closing her eyes and trying to block out the thoughts that followed her captors into the room.

"Expelliarmus. Stupefy. Retaramus. Scartisus. Terminus Fractim. Proctofis…"

She tried not to flinch, feeling their eyes boring into her from behind the masks that covered three quarters of their features - she had a strange feeling that if she moved first, they would close in on her and finish what they were sent to do. Maybe they were going to make her obey commands and send her back to Hogwarts... Maybe they thought she held some sort of information about Harry...

Opening her eyes, only the hoods that covered the figures were visible in the sliver of light from above, outlined against cold, black stone. They were tall, broad; most likely male. She flicked over them nervously.

_...one, two, three, six...can't remember the rest..._ Hermione held her breath to stop it coming in quick rushes. _Don't let them see you're afraid..._

All but one turned, and filed back out of the room, every one mute until she heard the last utter a low laugh from the depths of the black cloak. The heavy door swung shut behind them, though it didn't lock; even if she had wanted to escape there was still one Death Eater left. Furthermore, she was unarmed.

_Books and cleverness. Come on, 'Mione._

Her mind went blank as he took a step towards her and lowered his hood, revealing a black-masked face and a cascade of long, ash-coloured hair.

"Hermione..."

If it was an effort to sound comforting, to lure her into a false sense of security, then he was failing miserably. The voice... the sound... sent horror into her very soul, making her shiver in terror.

"I expected you to move eventually." Lucius crooned into her ear, and she frowned and turned her head away, staring at the floor. As she had been trying to stem her shuddering, he had apparated behind her. Her heart began to pound and the blood rushed painfully in her temples. With one gloved hand he gathered her hair off her neck and swept it to one side. Before she realised what he was doing, he had bent and kissed her neck, grazing his unnaturally sharp teeth against her skin. She pulled away but Lucius already had her arm in one large, strong hand and held her fast.

"Don't struggle." He said simply, turning her face with the free hand and catching her eye. In an instant, her head felt compressed, her eyes throbbing, but she was unable to break away.

_He's going to kill me... this is it..._

Ron's voice crept into her mind, sounding disgusted. _He's going to make your brain leak out of your ears!_

"NO!"

Starting to hyperventilate, she tensed all the muscles in her neck and wrenched her face away, and her skull felt like it had exploded. She reeled, feeling faint, eventually sliding down the wall in exhaustion.

_Turn around...turn around and run..._ She screamed mentally at her body as she felt her back against the stone, but she couldn't move from the blow she had taken. Or maybe she was being held in another of Lucius' locks. Whatever had caused it, it was already too late - Lucius had her arms pinned by her sides and she didn't need to be told not to move. He ran a thumb along her jawbone and fixed her with an aloof gaze, which she avoided.

"Why..." she whimpered. "Why am I here..."

Lucius put his mouth to her neck again, before murmuring in her ear. "Perhaps you should brace yourself, Mudblood. Believe me, this is going to hurt you more than it will me."


	5. Chapter 5

When Hermione opened her eyes, she was blind. At least, she was surrounded by pitch-blackness, and could hear movement in various parts of the room. The moon must have gone behind a cloud - the shaft of light was gone. Something skittered and rustled across the floor, and she froze, trying to breathe quietly.

_Rats? Mice?_

The familiar sound of the lock reverberated off the walls, and she let herself relax. She never thought she would be this happy to be alone...

Someone inhaled deeply a few feet away and she stifled a scream, pressing herself along the wall until she was crushed into a corner. As she waited she noticed the back of her head was throbbing, probably where she had hit it when she passed out, but she couldn't allow herself to touch it.

Not yet.

Now that her eyes were adjusting to the light, they widened as a masked man moved unexpectedly into her vision, and she wheezed softly in fright. Hermione scrabbled against the floor, forgetting the barrier behind her as the Death Eater moved closer and stood over her cowering figure. She felt a fingernail break off, or split, as she gripped the floor.

"Welcome back."

The words were hypnotic. Hermione found herself torn between feeling relieved that it wasn't another holder of the Dark Mark, and horrified that he hadn't left. He inclined his head slightly, wearing that smug Malfoy smile, and her blood ran cold as he held a hand down to her, offering to help her up. She pushed her hands under her chin protectively.

_I'm not going to touch you…_

_That's not your choice to make. _His voice invaded her consciousness, and she let out all her breath, staring at the ceiling in a bid to block him out. How much could she distract herself in this place? How do you protect yourself against mind linking? Wasn't that illegal?

"I'm surprised that you think I conform to those Muggle-loving standards, Miss Granger. Such a pity, and a waste of time."

He grabbed her wrist roughly, jerking her out of her meditation. With a cry, she tried to pull away but he was taller, stronger and more confident than her, and all Hermione got in return was a feeling of wasted energy. Tossing and turning under his grip, the one-sidedness of the struggle made her sick to her stomach. Once again she felt those large hands immobilizing her and she began to reel off more spell lists.

"Wingardium Leviosa, Confundus, Crux Malorum..."

He took a hand away, looking concerned. She shut her eyes and continued - it was working. He was backing off.

"Lumos Major, Actumae, Serpensortia, Tregorumus Hartum..."

"...Crucio."

Hermione screamed until she deafened herself, falling to the floor blinded and unbalanced by the pain. Lights swam behind her eyelids as her body twitched, the effects of the spell wearing off. Hearing a wooden clatter, she rolled onto her back, and her sight cleared to show Lucius standing above her, with her torso clamped between his feet.

"Mr... Mr Malfoy... wait..." Her only reply was a stony stare though the black stitching. Staring back, she wondered if her teeth were up to biting standard even though her braces had only recently been taken off. Why couldn't they just tell her what they wanted?

Lucius dropped to his knees, slipped his hands around her neck and caressed the soft skin between her jaw and collarbone. Trembling, she turned her face away from his touch, only to have him bend down and brush his lips just under her earlobe.

"Is there something you want to know?" he asked quietly, and she felt those teeth on her flesh again. Repulsed, she flung her forearms up and shoved him away with all the force she had left in her. He sat up and caught both her wrists easily, pinning them back to the floor in one swift movement that wrenched her shoulders. Crying, she found she couldn't twist out of his grip without putting an agonizing pain between her shoulderblades.

"Please... wait, I'll answer your questions... I just might not know- "

Without warning, he wrapped his thumbs across her throat and began to squeeze, his robes spread over them both like a black pool. The air whistled in her throat as she fought for breath, and he brought his face closer to hers and gave a half-smile. She turned her face away in desperation, clawing at his hands, and saw something blur in and out of focus on the floor beside her.

Lucius saw a flash of pale flesh as Hermione slapped out a hand and snatched his wand off the floor, bringing it up to his throat. Her hand shook as her lips started to catch a blue tint, and he laughed cruelly.

"I don't think you know any silent spells yet, Mudblood." His teeth showed white in the dim light, and slowly the Death Eater applied more pressure.

Hermione brought her fist back and drove the wand into his side. She felt it catch skin and glance off his ribs, and he released her throat, snapping his arms to his sides with a pained grunt and pulling the wand out of her grip. Massaging her throat, she felt him roll off her and stumble to his feet. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him detangling the wooden rod from his clothing, and he hesitated to inspect the blood on his fingers.

Hermione started to back away as she saw his jaw set under the black facial cover, and his eyes take on an icy glaze. As he snapped his face towards her, she turned and ran towards the door, yanking at the handle.

It was locked.

Turning to look at him, Lucius had not moved, but the fury in his eyes was unmistakable. Screams came out as hoarse gasps as she wrenched at the edges of the door, and she felt another fingernail tear away. Lucius sheathed his wand and strode toward her, span her around and gripped her face in his hand.

"You filthy creature." His breath warmed her face as he raged through gritted teeth. She struggled slightly, but found herself pressed against the back of the door through sheer strength and anger. Ignoring the pain, she raked at his hand, feeling the tackiness of her ruined fingers against his skin.

"You're going to regret everything you had done. The Dark Lord will see to it that you pay the price for _them_." He spat the last word, and dug his short fingernails into her cheeks. Tears running down her face, Hermione felt a back tooth cut into her cheek under the force.

Suddenly, his hold loosened and his expression changed, and she found her hand being raised by his. Letting go of her face, Lucius slowly removed his mask, looking at her strangely before bringing her injured fingers to his lips. He let them linger against the dry skin, drawing away some of the congealed blood with his tongue, watching her reaction. He let her hand drop and, stunned, she cradled it in pain and confusion.

Lucius moved away from her and muttered "Aholomora", giving his wand the briefest of flicks from the depths of his robes. The door unlocked with a click, and he opened it, pushing her to one side with its swing. He gave her a lingering look, a smear of blood still on his lower lip, and left.


	6. Chapter 6

On the second floor, he flung a window open to air the pokey little storeroom that passed for his accommodation. Breathing in deeply, Lucius reconsidered his choice to stay in the headquarters rather than apparate home, but realised he was feeling much too drained. To his surprise, he felt relieved that he was consigned to this run-down building. A cloud passed over the moon, dimming the light previously shed over the sleepy town.

_It was that argument. That's why I don't want to go home. The very thought that my own wife is driving me out of the house is ridiculous – tomorrow night, I will speak to her._

His fingers clenched as he remembered some of the names she had flung at him. It wasn't right - he was the head of the household and she had no right to speak like that to him in front of their son. How else would he learn how to conduct himself as a Malfoy?

He furrowed his brow, seeing a tiny grey speck weaving against the black sky. It was nearing eleven at night, almost twenty-four hours since he embarked on his task. Time passed quickly when you were kept busy. Who sends messages at this time of night?

The grey owl soared through the tight window with a wavering screech, and he ducked to one side. He'd seen that owl before somewhere, but couldn't place it... in that case, it must be urgent. Perhaps from one of his peers who wanted to remain undetected.

The owl made a chuttering sound and held out a leg, glowering at Lucius with sickly yellow eyes. He carefully unfolded the parchment attached, and got a nip on the wrist before the owl took off into the starting rain. Rubbing his arm in annoyance, Lucius read the letter.

_Dear Lucius,_

_I have decided to leave you. Our marriage was nothing but a farce from the beginning, and I don't feel like I can go on playing your silly games, and attempting to raise your children while you disappear for weeks on end with your 'Lord'. _

_I have left the manor, and I have taken all that I wish to take with me. You will be pleased to know that your precious belongings are safe – there is very little I want that will remind me of these past twenty years. _

_Draco is in the company of the squib maid. I do not want contact with you, or your son. He is turning into his father and I do not want to be associated with the way he was raised. I am now with my mother and father, and do not wish to receive any owls, letters or the like._

_Good day to you._

_Narcissa_

Lucius ran his eyes again over the looping script of his now estranged wife, and crumpled the letter in his fist, feeling like he had been thumped in the chest. The harlot had run away to her parents, and the owl was her mother, Venena's. Damn her and her family... they always did have a habit of departing on a whim when it suited them.

Conjuring a mattress, covered in embroidered pillows and quilts in green and black, he sank onto his low bed. He couldn't stay angry with her - whatever had happened amongst the Death Eaters, or in society, she had always been there to support him. Yes, he had dealt her a fair share of punishments, but what would he do without her?

_The same thing she is doing without you._

Voldemort's voice coaxed his imagination, and he saw Narcissa sitting at a table with her parents, laughing and smiling as if nothing had happened... free from commitment. Her ring finger was bare, yet she was still decked out in the expensive robes and finery she had so often convinced him to give her.

With a snarl of rage, Lucius pounded the thick wall on his left and dropped the letter, which he had still been clutching. As it hit the floor, the corners burst into flames and consumed all trace of her betrayal.

His face stony, he kicked the leftover ashes away and removed his black cloak.

_Damn her, then. Damn her to hell._

---

Hermione stood before the marked wall, trailing her fingers over the black lines of the skull. It was funny, they had never bothered to look closer when she was there with Ron, but it was obvious now that the image wasn't painted. It was burnt into the stone, like someone had drawn it on in a thick flammable substance and set it alight... or drawn it with a wand.

With magic.

Dropping her head, she leant forwards and rested her hand on the rough sketch of the Dark Mark, feeling it's charred outline coming away on her fingertips. The ashes stung where her fingernails were broken away, making her head swim.

_Is there something you want to know, Mudblood?_

She clutched at the wall, dizzy. That wasn't Lucius' voice... she had never heard it before. Quiet and unassuming, it seemed to stroke at her consciousness.

_Do you think you are being looked for, girl?_

Hermione saw her parents, sitting at the kitchen table, her father glued to the telephone. She fell over, squeezing her eyes shut, but the vision wouldn't leave. Her father's voice was faint, but determinable, and he was angry.

"_What do you mean, she isn't there?" Mr Granger paused, listening to the voice on the other end. "Don't take this out on me, it's not my relative that's turning her into a self-righteous teenager... fine. Goodbye, Mr Dursley."_

_He hung up, turning to look at the frustrated face of his wife, who ran her hands through her hair._

_"The stupid girl... what does she think she'll get out of running away to that boy? He's nothing but bad news."_

"_Don't worry, dear." Mr Granger soothed, taking her hand. "We'll find her and bring her home, and I'll be damned if she's going back to that school. Our girl is not going to spend her education practising magic tricks instead of at Cambridge."_

_Mrs Granger shook her head. "I just wish she would grow up and see past the end of her nose – life isn't all books and written tests."_

Hermione opened her eyes, which were brimming with tears. She had fallen forwards onto the brickwork and it was cold against her forehead. Pushing herself off the harsh surface, she turned around and leant back.

"Grow up?" she whispered.

_That's right_, said a voice in her head. With a furious scream, she kicked the nearest pile of sooty ash, and coughed as it flew back into her face. Pulling back her foot, it caught on something amongst the cinders, so she kicked them away, scattering objects against the next wall.

It was all the tools from the workbench. The last time they had come there, she and Ron had left the tools out, expecting to be back again. They were going to whittle chunks of wood into a chess set and enchant them when they got back to school... when they had arrived the next afternoon, the building was boarded up again, with DANGER tape plastered over all entrances. A man in a brown suit and a bowler hat had shouted at them to get off his property.

She realised with a pang, as she lifted a screwdriver with a melted handle, that someone had just blasted the bench where it stood. Someone didn't care what this place had been before. Trailing her fingers in the white dust, she closed them over a blackened piece of metal. Lifting it and pressing the button, an almost pristine blade slid neatly out of one end. She had found the heavy metal Stanley knife they had carved their names with.

_I'll be damned if she's going back to that school._

Hermione grit her teeth.

_Damn you, then. Damn you to hell._


	7. Chapter 7

Lord Voldemort surveyed the half-ring of Death Eaters before him, all with heads covered and half bent. These were the loyal ones. These he would keep close. He paused, eyes lingering on a particular hidden body.

There was still the shameless one... dedicated as he was.

"Malfoy, step forwards." His voice slid softly across the meeting hall. The cloaked figure by the hissing lanterns took two steps, and kneeled with his eyes fixed on the floor.

"Remove your hood."

Lucius' head emerged and his ice-blue eyes flicked up momentarily. Voldemort paused, mildly curious.

"Where is your mask, Malfoy?"

The other Death Eaters glanced up to see the mistake for themselves. Lucius swore inwardly and refrained from putting a hand up to his face, to feel for himself. The heat of the flaming torches dried and burnt his skin - he hoped the light would disguise the rising colour in his face.

_Damn it all, how could I forget to replace it?_

"It was touched by the creature's filthy blood, my Lord. I didn't care to have it touch my face." He adlibbed, and eyed the Dark Lord cautiously. There was a silence, and Voldemort took the time to stare around the room, an indication for the other members of the Dark Mark to return their gaze downwards and remain humble in his presence. Lucius ground two incisors together uneasily.

"You're lying to me, Malfoy."

Lucius blinked slowly and grit his teeth harder. He would have to be more careful in future. If there was going to be one for him...

"I wanted the Mudblood to see my face." He offered, truthfully. "I forgot to replace it after our meeting."

The snake-like eyes burned into him before his master was satisfied his first follower was telling the truth. Lucius felt something disappear from the back of his mind, and realized Voldemort had been assessing his thoughts, although in an unusually conspicuous manner.

"Consider that a warning." Voldemort clarified slickly. "However, I seem to recall the girl's discomfort from this evening, as I had my attentions on her throughout your session. I'm pleased that when you left, she was in a state of despair, and suitably confused. Single emotions are too quickly overcome, and I would have been more than disappointed if you had been able to do no more than confuse her."

Lucius nodded in agreement. Single emotions _were_ much easier... he stopped himself, shocked. His duty was to his Lord. This was no time for dwelling on family matters.

"I want you to return, and finish the first stage. Then we can send others in, and begin to generalize her fear, allowing us complete control."

Another Death Eater shuffled forwards uninvited and bowed low. "But my Lord, why must Malfoy be allowed to see the girl twice? We have all been waiting-"

"Silence, Crabbe, and return to your place. You will get your chance - I trust you have not forgotten your duty to me, and you are not impatient for personal gain?" Voldemort wet his lips, and gave the Death Eater a challenging look.

Cloaked head shaking back and forth, Crabbe slunk back into the shadows with his peers.

_Liar,_ thought Malfoy, maliciously. He had never liked Crabbe, or his half of the Death Eater social circle. It was almost a pity the split was so even between them, otherwise he might have had a good reason to dispose of a few without causing... concern.

_Filthy serfs._

"Gentlemen, tomorrow night. Return to your quarters." He detected several negative thoughts at this as the line filed past him, bowing in succession. Granted, the old headquarters were not ideal since they had abandoned them over a decade before - the 'quarters' were now derelict and filled with graffiti - but these were wizards, and they were loyal.

He smiled at this thought, and raised his head as the last few left the room.

"...And Malfoy?"

Lucius halted in the doorway and turned towards the pale body on the far side of the room, which shifted comfortably. Voldemort raised a skeletal hand briefly.

"Remember what you are here for. The half-blood race could be the death of any Eater, and that is not something I wish to anticipate."

_You are speaking from experience, of course._

Lucius bit his tongue, horrified, though it did little good. He was going to have to watch his train of thought from now on, having already aroused the suspicions of the Dark Lord. He gave the smallest of nods and let the cool air of the unlit corridor entice him out. Whatever the cause of his personal turmoil, he doubted very much that a Mudblood would put an end to his work with the Mark.

_Nothing will get in my way._

Narcissa's face hung in the back of his mind. Kicking over a metal candleholder outside the door, he stormed back to his room and vowed that she would get nothing more from him.

_Nothing._


	8. Chapter 8

"No."

"Please, Lucius. Just five minutes of your time."

Lucius wheeled mid-stride and Crabbe stumbled, almost walking into him. The short, stocky man had followed Lucius through the building for several minutes after accosting him outside the meeting room. The first wizard had just been given his orders for the evening and was trying to move down the west part of the factory's border corridor.

"Firstly, Mr Crabbe," Lucius snarled. "You have no right to address me as _Lucius_. I am Malfoy to you pathetic spares, or _Sir_, if you are familiar with the term."

Crabbe stuttered and bowed his head in forced respect, muttering: "Yes sir."

"Secondly, this is not _my_ time you are demanding to take. I have a task to carry out, and I plan to begin in less than ten minutes. I suggest you wait your turn and follow orders." His eyes flashed dangerously as he emphasized the last words.

Lucius turned on his heel and continued towards the holding room, leaving Crabbe looking dejected and angry. A small smile crept across his face, which would have given away his pleasure at beating down the lower classes, and silently he applauded himself on the increasing power he had gained over the years.

Almost as if he could see the look on his face, Crabbe's mocking voice rang after him.

"Yes, of course... following orders is how Lucius Malfoy got everything he ever wanted. Following orders is how Severus was turned in as a traitor, and Lucius was made 'The Lord's Favourite Eater'..."

Lucius ground to a halt by a broken window, a nerve in his cheek twitching. Crabbe faltered, but didn't give in.

"Lucius Malfoy follows every order that's given, to the point that he keeps everything to himself, including the Mudblood. You can't say you aren't, Lucius."

"If we gave her straight to you, Mr Crabbe, her tiny mind would snap on sight, she would be so repulsed." He turned and raised a calm eyebrow. "We don't want to ruin all our carefully prepared plans by presenting her with your foul self, do we now?"

Crabbe grinned vilely. "How terribly sad. Lucius... I mean,_ Sir _couldn't keep his wife by his side, and so now he's clinging to the next woman he comes across."

Lucius clenched his fists inside his robes and observed his tormentor. Crabbe's monologue was still flowing, accompanied by a widening grin.

"How funny... Lucius Malfoy followed his master's orders to the letter, and lost one of his prize possessions." He gave a short laugh. "That's right, Lucius - Narcissa left you because you kept doing as you were bidden. How does it feel to do everything to can, and lose what you wanted?"

Lucius swung out his wand and fixed his aim on Crabbe's chest.

"Avada Kedavra."

They had been the only two in the area, let alone the passageway, and nobody else saw the green blast illuminate the dirty windows. Quietly, he reduced the corpse to a pile of ashes and let the breeze from the window take Crabbe somewhere far away.

---

Bound in mid air by a complicated net of translucent threads, Hermione was looking at her hands, wondering frantically if she could get them out of their position above her head. Lucius had his back to her and was preparing potions idly, savouring the wait.

"Mr Malfoy-"

"Please, call me Lucius." He cut off her trembling voice with a smirk, glancing over his shoulder. Her discomfort was evident, but she pretended she hadn't heard him.

"Mr Malfoy... I already told you I'd answer your questions as best I can... I just want to go home." Her voice cracked, and she heard him laugh under his breath.

"Perhaps answers aren't what we came here for, my impure little friend."

A spasm of rage ran through her and she gripped at the conjured ropes around her wrists, but her fingers slid through them like they were melted butter. How dare he - impure, her? He couldn't even give his children a happy home life...

The image of her parents flickered back, and the fury drained from her.

_Oh._

"... and when you're ready, you will find out."

She realized that Lucius had been talking while she had fumed to herself, and she was still none the wiser about her situation.

"Were you listening, Miss Granger?"

She shook her head feebly, reminded for a split second of Professor Snape. A cold look of mock disappointment crossed his face before he flung the end of his wand in her direction.

"Crucio."

Before she understood what he had said, every inch of her body was burning, being grated raw, in one giant contraction. Shrieking through a locked jaw, she felt her joints shudder in agony and her insides twist in knots.

_My heart is going to split open... please, please stop..._

Lucius' spoke quietly in her head, and slowly her body was released from the cursed grip.

_You can abandon your parents, Mudblood. You can cleanse yourself, wipe the slate clean by renouncing your birth status... after all, we can't choose our parents, can we?_

The moisture collected in her cupid's bow, and she tasted salt and fear. They wanted her to reject her Muggle-born life? Why would that help them? She couldn't walk away from her mother and father because they didn't like her friends...

_They called you stupid._

_Was that me speaking, or him?_

He took a pocket watch out of a pouch in his robes and studied it for a few seconds before unclipping the chain and placing it gingerly beside his potions. Clearing his throat, he sheathed his wand and picked up a bottle.

"Do you recognize this, Mudblood?"

The Veritaserum slipped around in the bottle like coloured oil. Swallowing hard, she shook her head, knowing that he knew she was lying. He had called her bluff - it was answers they wanted... Why, oh why had she demanded that Harry should keep her up to date on everything he knew? Why on Earth had she offered to be his secret-keeper...

As the mouth of the bottle reached her lips, she clamped her mouth shut and moved her head sharply to the side, knocking it from Lucius' hand. She heard it hit the floor with a high ring of broken glass, and her self-discipline fell apart with it.

"You bastard! You call yourself a gentleman? I'm surprised anyone puts up with you, you heartless coward!"

Jerking his head down, Lucius brought his face level with hers, trailing his wand up her throat. She twisted away, eyes wide and teeth bared in terror as she realized what she had provoked. She wrenched at the silvery wisps that bound her as he let the tip come to a rest under her chin, and the man watched the muscles stand out in her neck and upper arms with mild interest.

Bending close, he could smell the faint, sweet scent of perspiration in her hair. He couldn't help comparing her expression to that of a terrified rabbit, and he smirked slightly.

"You know what's coming next, don't you, Hermione?"

She whimpered, and his eyes glinted as he mouthed the first syllable of the Unforgivable curse. Almost in unison, she mouthed "crucio" back at him, and her body relaxed completely, her head falling to one side. Stepping back, Lucius looked aghast and waved his fingers in front of her sightless eyes.

_My god, I've killed Hermione Granger._


	9. Chapter 9

Voldemort did not look pleased. He had been speaking with Malfoy for nearly an hour, and there seemed to be no good explanation for what had happened the previous night. The Dark Lord drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne, leaving small, blackened dents.

"And you have no idea why she was incapacitated so early, Malfoy?"

"No, my Lord." Lucius was fully standing, thankful that this time he was wearing his mask. "I did as you asked, but got no further than causing her physical pain."

The image of Hermione's empty eyes wouldn't leave his head. The nerve in his face began to twitch again under the black leather.

"... And how do the others feel about this, as they will now not have been included in the process? Indeed, the arrangement may now be defunct due to this... unexpected turn of events."

Lucius cleared his mind cautiously, knowing his thoughts could be being analysed. "I have not spoken to the other members of the Mark, my Lord. I thought it would be best to report to you first."

Which, in itself, was entirely truthful. There was no telling what the next few weeks held for Voldemort's forces, and if all fell through it was possible that he would lose everything else he still held his name to. He studied his master, who was looking thoughtfully in another direction, the light from the nearby flames making his eye sockets appear hollow.

"What of Crabbe, Malfoy? He was rather keen to... make his mark on the girl, so to speak. Do you think he could have taken it upon himself to start his work early; things going awry as a consequence?"

Lucius riskily considered his chances before replying.

"No," he admitted. "I would not allow it, and as a result Crabbe has left us. I fear his loyalty was limited."

"I see." Voldemort looked satisfied with this answer. "I was wondering what had caused his death..."

Lucius snapped his head up, concern knitting his brows. "Death?"

_He knows about this? Why am I not being punished?_

"I am not punishing you, Malfoy, because you have filtered out yet another of our disloyal members through standing by your orders. When Crabbe decided to leave, I can only assume he revoked his Unbreakable Vow. I thought it wise to apply the Vow to some of our less enthusiastic members." Voldemort added, seeing Lucius' shock.

Lucius felt the link lift from his consciousness and he allowed himself a few seconds to think.

_Thank Merlin, Crabbe took a Vow. He thinks Crabbe died trying to betray him - my luck must be on form tonight... now what?_

His master was looking over his shoulder, an agitated expression on his face.

"And what do you propose we do with her, Malfoy?"

Hermione stood with her hands clasped, eyes vacant and set on the floor. Lucius avoided her face and allowed his view to settle on her neck, where enormous grey and purple bruises were blooming. With an inward flinch, he looked back at his master - it seemed the safest option.

"I do not feel worthy of making that decision, my Lord. Do you feel our efforts are lost?"

"Perhaps not?" Voldemort stopped viewing her and turned his attentions back to him. "Leave her alone with me awhile. I shall see what we can do with her. At the very least, we could send her as a warning."

Lucius nodded, bowed and made for the door, deliberately steering clear of Hermione's vacant form.

_Those eyes... it wasn't right. What had he done?_

"Ah... Malfoy?"

Lucius halted and turned at the sound of Voldemort's voice. What was wrong?

Hermione was standing a pace or two behind him, gazing up at him with a look that bordered on... was it adoration? No, it wasn't quite that; it was like...

He turned her gently by the shoulders, directed her back to the spot before Voldemort, and left her, backing away slowly. She remained where he had left her for a second or two, and then turned as if sensing his retreating presence. Her steps were lazy, but fast, scuffing the floor as she trotted after him like an abandoned puppy.

"You seem to have acquired a follower. Quite literally."

Lucius chewed the inside of his mouth in concern. What _had_ he done? He attempted to move away, but still she skittered close to him, preferring to stand at his side, half-hidden behind him. He almost expected her to slip an arm through his, as children do for comfort, but she gave no other reaction.

"I..." he started, worried, but trailed off as he saw the disconcerting smile on the Dark Lord's face.

"Excellent," he hissed, and slapped the chair arm lightly. "It is possible that not all is lost. Would you care to give little Hermione a command? Something small, perchance?"

Lucius hesitated. "Sit... sit down, Hermione."

Hermione stood, swaying slightly, but apparently comfortable where she was. Voldemort encouraged him.

"Malfoy, you fail me - I know you can be more assertive than that."

Lucius felt a jolt of disgust. This filthy girl was toying with him, showing him up in front of his Lord. How dare she?

"Sit down, Mudblood." He snapped, glaring at her. Gracefully, Hermione sank to the floor and sat on her heels, gazing up at him. She appeared to be awaiting her next order. Despite feeling his own expression soften at her obedience, he couldn't help the little swell of delight at her slavery.

"Very good." Lord Voldemort was mildly impressed. "This could prove more useful than first thought. Another display, if you please?"

"Stand up, Mudblood." In an instant, she was on her feet expectantly. "Go, stand before the Dark Lord."

Hermione twitched, but didn't move.

"Do as I say, Mudblood."

Hermione only eyed the seated half-man and stepped closer to her master. Lucius grabbed her arm and raised his other hand in fury.

_Do it, damn you!_

"Lucius!" He found his arm locked above his head, Voldemort pointing a plain-looking wand at him. "Do you want to undo everything, you fool? I still have use for her... I believe we can carry on as planned."

Lucius' mind raced. How else could they perfect her responses?

"The Imperius curse?"

"Exactly. Paired with the little gem you have inadvertently planted in her head, we should have no trouble at all when we make our move. In the meantime," he paused, considering what he was about to say.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"In the meantime, I want you to take her where you see fit, and work on her obedience. Your time will come, Malfoy, and you will be rewarded well for it."

He felt his arm loosen and he brought it down carefully, flexing his fingers to dispel the cramping. Hermione was still gaping at him, a mixture of fear and awe on her face that made his insides knot together. Feeling somewhat baffled, he slipped an arm gently around her shoulders and guided her into the passageway with no more than a respectful nod to his leader. Hermione trotted ahead of him in whichever direction she was lightly pushed, her eyes glazing over again, much to his disappointment. Truth be told, he preferred her emotional responses to this deadpan submission, however pleasing it was to have a slave.

No matter, his time would come.


	10. Chapter 10

At his command, Hermione knelt on the colourless fabric. The mattress gave slightly under her tiny weight and her face was jaundiced in the flickering lantern-light. Brushing his wand through the air, Lucius mounted the dusty lamp on the wall above her bed, and observed her reactions from his place by the window. Her condition was causing problems – it did not blend well with the Imperius curse, and he was wary of causing irreparable damage.

With her back to him, Hermione bowed her head tamely and her hair fell over one shoulder. Lucius caught another glimpse of the dark, deformed flowers on her neck, and realised that three of them matched his fingers. His breath caught in his throat and he shut his eyes until he felt composed. Turning away, he opened the window again and leant out into the twilight as far as the gap allowed.

The chilled, 4am air bit his throat as he inhaled.

_I want you to take her where you see fit, and work on her obedience._

Malfoy allowed his lip to curl, the words reverberating in his mind. Hermione was, by no stretch of the imagination, a weak girl. Given the chance – a chance she had already been introduced to – she would grow to be a strong-willed, intelligent woman. He knew that her mental abilities had previously far surpassed those of her classmates. Looking back at her, he frowned, gingerly removing a stray thread of white hair from his face. She was now little more than a drone bee, a follower to those in power.

That was the poison in his wine.

All who had encountered Hermione for more than a passing moment were aware of her talent and eloquence. Her name and face were often plastered alongside the Potter boy's – people in the wizarding world _knew_ her. He was well aware that posting Hermione back into society would arouse… suspicion. Her stumbling and speechlessness certainly would not help matters, not to mention her unexplained absence.

_Lie down, Hermione._

He heard a soft noise in the dimness behind him and relaxed, hoping that she would sleep. It would give him time to plan. A voice tapped politely at his subconscious.

_And what exactly do you plan to do with her? You have no idea whether she can still work with magic. You have no idea if her mind is still… able._

_We shall see, _he replied, more assertively than he felt.

* * *

_He's there. I can feel him. How long before he pushes the mark? How much longer can I follow, and how long will it stall him for? Not a threat, 'Mione, not a threat… Hello, Lucius, I can feel you there. Yes, of course I will walk around the room. See – I can do it. I can also stand still, and draw my wand. Yes, I can wave it. I do no harm, I have no effect. What's that? You want me to…?_

…_No, I cannot._

_That… hurts._

* * *

"Flatus."

As ordered, Hermione extinguished the flame; her voice quaking and her muscles juddering under Malfoy's curse. While her arm was extended and the tip of her wand still heated, he gripped her mind and pressed harder – there remained a little free will that he needed to take care of.

_Light the room, Hermione._

She swung the wand silently. Without warning, the mattress burst into flames and crumbled to white ash. Flinching in astonishment, he fought to still her racing mind, which already seemed to be searching for another article to set alight.

Non-verbal magic? His head began to ache.

_Damn girl, she's been completely addled – everything she has hidden so far is spilling out. What else has she kept from us – from everyone? How far does her knowledge extend?_

_Books, Mr Malfoy, books. If it is available, I am knowing._

He paused. With a knitted brow, Lucius waved a hand in front of her docile face in an attempt to trace some consciousness. There was a moment of still silence in the musty atmosphere before she blinked and let her wand arm drop to her side. The voice had been gentle and unassuming – was he hearing things? Was he finally going mad?

_The library, Miss Granger?_ He enquired carefully.

_Yes._

_Surely the school has censors. What more do you know, and how?_

_The greater magic is logic alone – when you know some, you can create many._

Lucius shuddered and broke the link. What was this child's motive, that she had taken the time and the effort to study the construction of magic? His temples throbbed while he struggled to comprehend. What was the Mudblood's purpose, and was it a personal or assigned vocation?

An unexpected, slow movement broke his train of thought. Every muscle in Hermione's body seemed to be relaxing, and for a split second her knees buckled, her eyes fluttered and rolled and her wand fell from her fingers. Lucius lurched forwards and grabbed her by the hands as she righted herself. She dug her broken fingernails into his skin, and he felt the scabs scratching and crumbling in his palms. Searching her face, he froze as she tipped her head back to reveal two strong, blue-black thumbprints, and once again he tasted her sweetly salted blood on his lips.

_This is going to hurt you more than it will me._

He swallowed hard and dipped his face away from hers. Something inside him teetered and fell away and he realised that, whatever it was, he wouldn't miss it. As he focused on the floor a tiny mound of ashes by his foot dissolved into itself and ran away. The early breeze chased the particles into the cracks in the floor, and the last thoughts of his wife dwindled with them. He and Hermione were alone.

Why shouldn't she be his? He would do the Dark Lord's bidding; she would fulfil her task. His reward could be her continuing obedience. That would be…

Something small and quiet left the back of his mind, and a voice replaced it, unnaturally loud in the tranquillity.

"Mr Malfoy?"

He sprang upright, confused, and for an instant their eyes locked. Gently, lovingly, Hermione squeezed his hands.

_Crucio._

* * *

The floor was cold under his spine. Fighting his cramping limbs, Lucius opened his eyes to see her kneeling beside him, goose pimples rising on her skin. By now, daylight was beginning to creep through the openings and the lantern had gone out, leaving the room damp and chilly. Grimacing, he swallowed the metallic tasting substance that had built up in his mouth.

"You could have left."

At the sound of his detached voice, a smile touched her face before she shook her head.

"Why should I? Where would I go?" she asked, risking a glance at him.

He didn't answer. Her place in muggle society was not one that interested him. Easing himself into a sitting position he felt his tongue begin to throb and something warm trickled over his lip. He must have bitten it whilst under the curse. Swallowing again, he flinched and looked up as something cool brushed his face.

Hermione had a strange look on her face – once again, the awe and adoration was there, but it was hiding something else. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on…

Hermione drew her red-stained fingertips away from him, and he stared, aghast, as she allowed them to hover against her own lips. He opened his mouth, unsure if he was about to protest or not.

_Shhh. Where do questions get you?_

Someone's heart beat deafeningly between them.

_I don't understand._

_We don't need to. I can do what the Dark Lord wishes. You only have to ask._

Lucius let his sight drift from the expectant look in her eyes to the scarlet droplets on her fingers, finally resting on the blurry ring around her neck.

His. All his. And she was willing to offer more. He had created her.

Abandoning his conscience, he shrugged off his cloak and pulled her to him. As her neckline was nuzzled away, she felt the sharp teeth again on her shoulder and she buried her face in his shirt. His hard hands ran over her waist and pushed the hem of her blouse free.

Unexpectedly, his thumb found a curious patch of raised, scarred flesh on her left side. He drew away as he traced the mottled image with his fingers, familiarity seeping slowly within him. His fingertips finished translating, and finally horror hit him in the chest. Before he could react Hermione wrenched his arms away from her torso and stepped backwards.

_Accio Vesica._

Her hand swept neatly across him almost before it had closed around the blade. Glinting in the dewy sunlight, the stanley-knife span, hurled away from the scene nearly as soon as it had arrived. In reply, Lucius gasped and felt his chest grown warm and moist, putting both shuddering hands up to his burning throat.

She took the time to stroke his hair away from his face, watching his lips pale. Then, avoiding his agonised gaze, she climbed to her feet. Malfoy's body continued to shake and he fell onto his side, fingers sliding against the raw edges. In dismay, he watched through hazed eyes as she wiped her hands on her skirt, rearranged her collar and tucked her blouse back in. The Dark Mark, crudely burnt onto her skin, was folded away under the soft cotton.

He mouthed wordlessly at her cold expression, and the trembling started to slow. She bent and picked up her wand, which had rolled towards the splendour of the green and black bedding, before slipping Lucius' own cloak over her back.

Gritting his teeth, he fell back and closed his eyes.

"Take care, Mr Malfoy."


End file.
